


Sunflower Meets Husky

by pickledbrows



Category: Yuri!!! on Ice (Anime)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Fantasy, Alternate Universe - Future, Alternate Universe - Space, Alternate universe - Mafia, Arguing, Bathtubs, Crush at First Sight, Dancing, Drabble Collection, Fluff, Gags, Impatience, Jealousy, Kissing, M/M, Moving In Together, Pets, Seungchuchu Week 2017, Unrequited Crush, Wedding
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-05-08
Updated: 2017-05-28
Packaged: 2018-10-29 09:54:14
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 21
Words: 11,726
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10851564
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/pickledbrows/pseuds/pickledbrows
Summary: 30 drabbles. 30 snapshots exploring a budding relationship and thereafter.Seung-gil/Phichit-centric with other pairings sprinkled in as I please.[[Chapters 16 - 22 are part of Seungchuchu Week!]]Tags are added when needed.





	1. Beginnings

**Author's Note:**

> Holy shoes, I'm alive. (Plot twist: I'm actually a ghost)
> 
> If you're wondering about Stretch, forgive me. This semester has been hard on me due to private reasons. I'll get to updating it when I can find it in me to write a long!fic. For now, have some Seungchuchu.
> 
> I literally wrote this because I noticed there are only 22(?) tagged Seungchuchu fics on AO3. That's a crime? Did nobody notice? In other words, this 30-drabble series will be my "reasons to love seungchuchu and write more about them" pitch to the universe.
> 
> I have a list of prompts BUT if you'd like to send me requests, please do! Seungchuchu-centric, please. You can drop it in a comment or hit me up on twitter (cosmonautfield) or even Tumblr (lipglosssedover), though I hardly go on there anymore.
> 
> Here's to more Seungchuchu and writing!

* * *

 

Phichit flubbed his first ever quad in competition and rose from the ice with a dignified smile and throbbing on his hip and palms. He carried his proud grin from the final beat to the kiss-and-cry. Halfway through his interview, his mirth faltered as he caught sight of another skater whose name he’d learned because they were grouped together.

From down the hall he came, the last competitor today, his face impassive with a hint of sour in the corners of a downturned mouth. Phichit guessed he’d mirrored that look during the half-second he’d lost his landing and felt his own lips curl in anticipation for the smile that would follow once his rival touched the ice.

Except, it never came. Sour bled into scowl and the stomp to the kiss-and-cry had Phichit watching in absorbed fascination. He’d never seen someone so angry in competition, especially for a score that had far surpassed his own and ranked some of the highest he’d seen from Asia this year.

Later that night, under the scratchy duvet of his hotel bed, Phichit dragged his finger briskly over the screen of his brand-new smartphone—a gift from his hard-working parents for reaching his goal of participating in international competition—while searching Instagram. His eyes were half-lidded and aching with fatigue when he came across a feasible thumbnail after clicking through mutual accounts for a solid fifty-three minutes.

There was a dog. Many pictures of the one dog. More dog than people. When the owner made an appearance, either the focus was on the dog, or the photo was a blurred shot in a rink of a familiar face filled with rushed annoyance and a hint of sour at the corners of a downturned mouth.

Phichit found himself chuckling as he rolled over onto his side, cheek pressed against the cold of his pillowcase. His energy was curiously restored at snail’s pace as he scrolled through the less than two-hundred pictures and came across a lamp-lit shot of the skater with his dog draped over his lap.

Phichit tapped the follow button and mouthed his rival’s name, recalling how it’d been pronounced earlier that afternoon at the competition. Bittersweet feelings about today’s memories sat in his throat. He hadn’t made it past today but there was always next year. He’d go home tomorrow to Bangkok and tell his parents his dreams of going to America. His next goal was to be coached by the famous former skater, Celestino. He’d write him a personal letter if necessary, begging politely to be taken on even if only for a year. For one season.

Until the day he landed in America, he’d practice his hardest to make it further in competition. Maybe round two. Maybe finals. From the sidelines of television and internet streaming, he’d cheer on the new friends he’d made this week and hope to receive a follow-back from seung-gillee.

Phichit’s new goals, he called them.

His smile hurt the next morning when one was fulfilled.


	2. Accusation

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Is Seung-gil the jealous type? Hm. He could be. Anybody could be depending on the strength of feelings or the weakness of heart.
> 
> Thanks for reading!

* * *

 

“It didn’t mean anything!” Phichit said, more exasperation than frustration, more hurt than angry, “I swear, Yuuri and I…this is normal! This is how we are!”

He watched as Seung-gil harshly tugged off his tie, the slide through his collar a sharp snap to the ear. A scowl defined his expression, and although Phichit usually saw it as endearing, he was now worried that he’d never be able to lift it from the other’s face.

He reached out to place a tentative yet firm hand over the other’s wrist, and he stood rigid when the annoyed glare was turned directly on him. He’d received it plenty of times before, but not with this weight or bearing, never with this pain.

“I swear to you, nothing—”

“If you want to go back to the party, go ahead. I’m done.”

Curt. Sharp. Acidic.

Phichit shook his head and stepped closer, fingers curling around Seung-gil’s wrist.

“I don’t want to go if you’re just going to sit here on this misunderstanding,” he replied, pleaded, sorrowful and aching, “Please, listen to me. You don’t need to feel jealous—”

“Why would I be jealous of Katsuki?”

“Because you thought I was going to start grinding on him in the middle of the banquet!”

“I thought no such thing, nor do I care.”

“That’s a lie!”

Phichit bit down the tremor in his lip, his other hand reaching up to grab onto Seung-gil’s other wrist. Hold him steady. Be his rock.

“You always drop your hints about him being too close or me being flirtatious. I know you’re jealous right now—don’t deny it—you are!”

Seung-gil’s nostrils flared, a signal he was holding back his negative passion and patience was dangling several meters from death.

“It doesn’t mean anything,” Phichit repeated in a lighter, steadier voice, “It’s not that I’m putting you down or aside by being flirtatious. I just honestly—”

“You loved him before.”

Phichit paused mid-sentence.

What denial.

Seung-gil freed himself from his grasp but stood, unyielding. Challenging. It ached for him to declare those words so confidently when Phichit had never been able to confess on his own.

“Before, yes.”

Acceptance.

“But now, no. He’s my dearest friend. You’re different.”

“I’m—”

“I love you and you know it.”

Visible relaxation. The settling of waves. The parting of grey sky. Tenderness against Seung-gil’s cheek when Phichit reached up to trace the smooth skin with his fingertips. He raised himself on his toes to close the few inches between them and pressed their mouths together. Compressed. Stiff.

Seung-gil pulled away immediately and wrapped an arm around his waist. Reassurance. Solid. He led Phichit to the bed where they sat on the edge. Exhaled together. Hands clasped.

“You’re a very jealous person,” Phichit said softly in his ear, cheek resting against the other’s shoulder, “It’s quite irrational. Surprises me every time.”

“Only with you.”

Phichit smiled at the layers of meaning in those three words, knowing he’d never trade them in.


	3. Restless

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks so far for the kudos, comments, and bookmarks! Remember, I take requests/prompts for the next 27 days! If you have twitter or tumblr, please talk to me about seungchuchu. Please. I barely have any diehard seungchuchu friends.

* * *

 

Seung-gil had come early. An entire hour idled in his path even though he’d studied the train timetable the night before. He still had the screenshots saved on his phone.

There was a café at the international arrivals lobby where he could grab a drink. Not coffee since it was mid-afternoon, but the iced teas looked refreshing and the muffins decent.

He spent eight minutes staring at the muffins. He needed to get two. Lemon poppy for himself, which left banana nut or the special of the day, strawberry cheesecake. Did Phichit like strawberries? Yes.

Cheesecake?

When Seung-gil had his drink and two muffins bagged—lemon puppy and banana nut, to be safe—his gaze swept the surrounding area for a place to sit. The only empty table had crumbs and crumpled tissues on it. He frowned. He wasn’t here at the airport to pick up another person’s garbage. He also didn’t want to sit with the mess and then get up to leave it where it was. Someone would call him out on it, even if it wasn’t his doing.

He remembered a row of benches outside the entrance to the airport train station, so he headed there, hoping for a spot.

There was an entire bench free and he settled at one end, which lessened the possible amount of people who could sit beside him.

He set the bag with the banana nut muffin at his side on the outside edge of the bench, creating zero chance of it being smashed. He took a bite of his own treat. Too sweet. Too much lemon. A sip of his cold, mango tea. He didn’t care much for iced tea, but mango had him thinking of a plate of sweet, sticky rice and syrupy laughter.

Less than fifty minutes.

Between drinking or munching two different fruit flavors, he scrolled through his phone. Checked the time. Told his legs to stop shaking. He had too much on his mind.

Another bite. Two more to go.

Stop shaking.

Movement caught his eye and he glanced up at the customs gate as people streamed out, rolling various numbers of bags with them. For a second, Seung-gil’s heart jumped and his eyes jerked to the time in the corner of his phone. Had he misread the time? He checked the screenshot of the confirmation email. False alarm.

He took his last bite and rolled a tissue around the muffin paper before sliding it back into the bag. He tried to keep his garbage from touching Phichit’s muffin. No luck.

His phone buzzed in his hands and a notification slid down from the top.

‘Here!’

Seung-gil slurped down the remaining mango. Watered down. Dilution. He chewed the straw.

He sent a message back, wondering what kind of roaming charges Phichit was paying to send one word texts.

‘Waiting.’

He set his clear, plastic cup with melting ice on the floor beside his feet.

‘I’m so excited! It’s time to party!”

Seung-gil smiled.

Leg, stop shaking.


	4. Sightseeing

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This got really...cute. And it's based mostly on an RP that I had with my Seung-gil on Twitter.
> 
> This was requested by anon! Thanks for the prompts! Remember, you all can send me some! I don't mind raising the rating on this fic. Just...just don't get too kinky, okay? *sweats*
> 
> Thank you to those who've dropped kudos and comments! I hope you're enjoying so far! You can hit me up on Twitter (@cosmonautfield) anytime!

* * *

 

Upon seeing Seoul Tower in the distance, Phichit held up his prepared selfie stick and turned. He hooked his arm into Seung-gil’s so he couldn’t escape the photo.

“We should get closer,” he mumbled.

“I’m going to get a whole series on the way! It’ll be a photo adventure,” Phichit announced and smiled big for the first of many pictures.

When they reached the base of the tower, he had several photos up on Instagram and Seung-gil had his hands shoved into his pockets.

“What are those?” Phichit asked, “Trees? Christmas trees? But it’s not winter.”

He rushed off to the displays before Seung-gil could answer, eyes widening in excitement when he saw a countless number of locks hanging from what he’d thought had been festive trees. He detached his phone from the selfie stick and immediately started snapping picture after picture from different angles.

“This is so cool! Colorful!” he said to Seung-gil who’d finally caught up at his leisured pace.

Phichit stepped forward to snap a close-up and paused when he saw various writing on each lock. Every single one was decorated with marker. There was mostly Korean but he caught sight of English on a few. One was in Thai! As he read them, his brows lifted upon realizing the overall theme of the entire lock collection. The considerable amount of heart doodles alone supported his strong hunch.

Seung-gil bumped his arm lightly and he glanced down, eyes fixing on the gold and silver padlock sitting atop the other’s palm. Phichit looked up at him with confusion. Maybe some hope.

“Ours,” Seung-gil said and produced a marker in his other hand. He wrote something down on the lock and then held it up for Phichit to take, “Write your name.”

Phichit took the heavy object in his hand, eyes sweeping over the lettering that he’d come to recognize as Seung-gil’s name. It was the only hangul he knew. He took the marker from Seung-gil and wrote his own name down beside it before doodling a small picture on the other side.

When he was finished with his dog and hamster masterpiece, he noticed that Seung-gil had moved closer. Arm against arm, head bowed beside his. Phichit could count his lashes if he had time.

Instead, he leaned in and pressed his nose to Seung-gil’s cheek, inhaling softly.

“Hey…” he warned, though made no move to dodge.

Phichit chuckled and handed the marker back to him before reaching up to slide the lock into place with the hundreds of others. He clicked it shut and held up his phone to take a photo.

“Do you know what this says?” he asked, one finger pointing at the text he’d written.

An unimpressed roll of the eyes.

“Yeah, of course. It’s the only Thai I know,” Seung-gil answered and looked off at the tower, “Let’s climb this thing.”

When Phichit slid a tentative hand into his and squeezed lightly, he was delighted to find the gesture returned with no hesitation.


	5. Bath Time

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Another request from the same anon as last time! Remember, you can always drop a request or prompt in the comment section! I have many, many more days to go!
> 
> I don't know what baths in South Korea are like buuuut I've seen pics and I decided to give Seung-gil a tub because he can probably afford an apartment with one. And now I'm thinking Japanese baths but whatever. Those can get pretty cramped too.
> 
> Thanks for dropping kudos and comments when you can! Hope you enjoyed this one!

* * *

 

“This isn’t going to work.”

“It will! I’ll just sit between your legs!”

“No, it’s definitely not going to work. Our heights—”

“I’ll sit on your lap and then the heights will be fused!”

“It’s narrow.”

“I’ll squish myself!”

“You’re short, but—”

“I’m not short!”

Seung-gil sighed and shut the shower off. It was already cramped in his bathroom with one person so sharing it with another placed his patience level past the usual tolerance threshold. He’d almost given up halfway through shampooing when a bony elbow continuously dug into his ribs.

“You have a tub so we should use it! It’s not every day you get a tub like this!” Phichit said while leaning over to test the heat of the water again.

Why did he have to wiggle when bent over like that?

“I live here. I get this tub every day.”

“Get in!”

Seung-gil sighed again and hung the showerhead up before making his way to the tub. He grumbled as he tried to walk around his companion and rolled his eyes when Phichit wiggled his hips. An obstacle course, he said with a snicker. Seung-gil had nowhere to put his hands except on Phichit and of course he would take advantage of it.

“Oh! You’re a little pushy today!” he teased and squeaked when Seung-gil splashed hot water at him.

Seung-gil smirked and slowly sank into the tub, hands gripping the edges as he descended into the heat. It’d been a while since he’d taken a soak like this, though he did enjoy the feeling of total cleanliness right after. Once seated, he shot Phichit an impatient glance.

“Well?”

He grunted when his boyfriend took the liberty of swinging his butt right into his face as he climbed right in. Did he have to? Another grumble left him when Phichit plopped right down onto his lap and made his ears ring with a shriek.

“Ouchie, owie, I’m gonna boil!” he whined and tried to get back out. Seung-gil wrapped his arms tightly around him. The frustrated anchor of an imbalanced boat.

“Hold still. You’ll adjust,” he murmured against Phichit’s nape and he gave the wet skin a kiss. Phichit trembled.

After a few minutes, he was limp against Seung-gil, settled right between his thighs, and lying with his back to his torso. The heat of the water, surrounding steam, and weight of the other atop him made Seung-gil feel a little lightheaded but he breathed deeply and kept himself relaxed. They wouldn’t be in here for too long.

He felt Phichit caress one of his hands and he hummed, the sound almost deafening in a room filled with water droplets and small splashes.

“It feels nice,” Phichit whispered and turned his head. He leaned back more, tucking his head onto Seung-gil’s shoulder so the water met his chin.

Seung-gil hummed again and stretched, his neck straining as he angled his head to fit his mouth against Phichit’s in a tender kiss. It felt amazing.


	6. Flame

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ahhhhhhh I fell asleep yesterday after work before I could write this. I hope to get the 7th one up later on tonight as well. (T___T)
> 
> Thanks so much for the comments, kudos, and bookmarks! I'm glad you guys are enjoying this so far! It's good to know seungchuchu will not die~

* * *

 

Seung-gil was melting. He was sure that if he’d stayed outside for any longer, he would be a sticky, melted mass on the sidewalk. It was barely past noon and he wondered if maybe they should’ve gone to the rink in the evening when the sun was set.

Phichit seemed unfazed by the heat and had even managed to wear jeans and a sleeved shirt while walking outside. He was in his kitchen now, preparing snacks and juice while humming an unfamiliar tune. It had a bit of a warble to it, a style Seung-gil couldn’t place.

He leaned back, head resting against the living room wall, and breathed deeply as the fan in the corner of the room worked to cool him down.

“Are you okay?” Phichit asked, walking over with two glasses of juice. Seung-gil took one, nodding his thanks before chugging half the contents, and Phichit placed his own on the coffee table. He headed back into the kitchen.

“Does it get cooler at night?” Seung-gil asked. He tried to tip an ice cube into his mouth.

“A little. It’s still humid though,” Phichit answered and came back with a plate of cookies and chips.

They sat together, munching in silence, and when Phichit started humming again, Seung-gil asked him about the song.

“It’s from a new movie that was released last month!” he answered, eyes lighting up, “About a classical dancer. My choreographer helped with most of the scenes and we went to see it together. I told Ciao Ciao that I want to use one of the songs for next season.”

He popped a chip in his mouth and rocked back and forth excitedly. Seung-gil took another sip from his drink, noting it was almost empty.

“Let me get more,” Phichit said, standing up, but Seung-gil held his wrist to stop him.

“You were practicing some of the choreography on the ice today.”

Phichit blinked and nodded.

“I’m still working on it.”

“Could you show me? The…traditional, no, classical stuff.”

Phichit beamed from ear to ear. He set the plate on the couch and his cup on the floor before pushing the coffee table to the other side of the room, creating a mini dance space. Wordlessly, his hands went up to strike a pose, his smile never leaving his face. His arms twisted, fingers waved, and his feet stamped or froze before moving into another position.

Seung-gil studied the delicate position of fingers, the calculated bend of knees, and the graceful tilt of neck. Every movement had purpose and meaning and Phichit effortlessly blended ballet into his tradition. He tried to guess the next move, but each movement seemed random, like an impulsive thought. Structured improv.

“That’s all!” Phichit chirped.

He took his seat and reached for his juice, but Seung-gil grabbed it and chugged with no remorse. He was hot again—perhaps the sun outside grew warmer—and he handed two empty cups for Phichit to refill.

“Extra ice.”

He was burning up.


	7. Formal

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I did it! 2 in one day! And I'm all caught up yayyyyy *high fives myself*
> 
> I see that more people bookmarked since I wrote the last chapter. And more comments as well! Thanks a bunch as always~ Remember, you can always drop me a prompt/request any time! 23 more days to go! Don't let the seungchuchu die!
> 
> Hit me up on twitter (@cosmonautfield) anytime to talk and scream about seungchuchu or yoi in general, okay?

* * *

 

Suits either made people look sharp or they made them look weighed down by an unforgiving career. Phichit was neither. Maybe it was the flower he’d tucked behind his ear that had been on his lapel earlier, or maybe it was just his charm.

He was cute.

Seung-gil watched as Phichit twirled Yuuri around on the dance floor. Everyone around was laughing, some recording, others waiting their turn with a groom. The merriment grew louder when the friends started an improv to the pop music Otabek had put on for the shared dance.

“My best friend is finally married!” Phichit shrieked as Yuuri picked him up around the waist. They ended their dance with a formal bow and then Phichit skipped off to rejoin Seung-gil at their table.

“I want to dance with Viktor next,” he said while taking a sip of his water.

They watched as Viktor and Chris finished their own dance with extravagant cheek kisses.

“Enjoy yourself,” Seung-gil replied and pulled back sharply when Phichit grabbed his hand.

“Come on! You should come dance,” Phichit whined but Seung-gil wouldn’t budge. Long before this day had even been chosen and written on their kitchen calendar, he established that he wouldn’t partake in dancing at the wedding.

“You can dance for both of us,” he said and sipped at his drink, something blue that had been customized by Yuuri.

Phichit sighed and released his hand, staying seated instead of bouncing off to the dance floor again. His eyes were trained on the two newlyweds, a smile lighting up his face, and Seung-gil thought for a moment how precious he looked with his bowtie.

The shared dance continued until everyone had their moment with one or both grooms. The highlight was when the mothers of each man danced with their new sons-in-law and everyone realized that the bumping and grinding had been witnessed by the lovely, graceful women. Viktor and Yuuri went from blushing, sweating messes to poised, ruffled elegance in the blink of an eye.

“They’re so happy,” Phichit sighed with bliss and settled his chin on his palm, eyes half-closed in contentment as he watched Yuuri and Viktor share a kiss before their own dance, “I’m happy. Yuuri is so happy!”

Humming in reply, Seung-gil sipped the last of his fruity drink. Beside them, Chris and his own husband were returning to their chairs and scooting closer together, whispering in whatever language it was they shared.

The music dove into a soft melody, recognizable as the one that had brought the two on the dance floor together. Seung-gil watched as Phichit swayed in his seat, and after some contemplation, he stood and took hold of his boyfriend's hand. Phichit looked up with confusion but his lips curled into a smile when Seung-gil pulled him close and began to step in time with the beat.

He pressed their cheeks together, his eyes slid shut, and he ignored the hushed cheers and whispers from surrounding friends.

He was happy, too.


	8. Companion

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I should've said this earlier but these drabbles are in no particular order. They're most likely in the same universe but they just happen whenever.
> 
> Thanks again for the kudos and comments so far!

* * *

 

Phichit has watched The King and the Skater and its sequel at least forty-seven times. He knew every line of every character, including the extras, and he always stood to sing and dance during “Shall We Skate.” This would’ve been his thirty-eighth time seeing the first film if Seung-gil hadn’t distracted him with a kiss halfway through the film. By the time the credits rolled, their various clothes littered the floor and Seung-gil was using his chest as a pillow.

“Isn’t it a great film?” Phichit teased, fingers massaging his scalp. Seung-gil hummed, eyes half-lidded, and kissed a red mark on Phichit’s collarbone.

They continued to lie there, letting the DVD menu play endlessly after the movie transitioned back, and a tickle against Phichit’s foot had him jerking with a squeak. He glanced down the length of their half-dressed bodies and flushed at the sight of gleaming blue eyes.

“Hi, doggie,” he greeted and the husky padded closer, nosing softly at Seung-gil.

“Nn, go ‘way,” he murmured and placed a hand on his dog’s head, scratching gently between its ears.

Phichit smiled and watched as Seung-gil slowly came back to life, pushing himself up onto his elbows to give his dog plenty of head rubs. He spoke softly in Korean, his voice dropping to a deep, raspy tone. When Jin sniffed his cheek, he chuckled and cooed at him.

“Let me use the bathroom,” Phichit said, patting Seung-gil’s shoulder.

He slipped off the couch and bent over to pick up his underwear and shorts from the floor. In the shower, he rinsed off, knowing they’d be heading to bed soon, and he went to his suitcase in the bedroom to change into clean sleepwear.

When he came back out, Seung-gil was sitting with his pants on and his dog resting on his lap. He ran his hands through the thick fur, head leaned back and eyes shut. Phichit tiptoed around them to gather the empty beer cans and snack plate from the side table to take to the kitchen.

“Bed?” he heard Seung-gil call out and he peeked from the sink where he was washing the inside of the cans clean before putting them in the recycling bag.

“I already washed up and I’m dressed. Let me finish tidying up,” he answered.

He heard Seung-gil get up and head to the bathroom, and when he was done with clearing the living room and the DVD player was shut off, he made his way to the bedroom. Seung-gil was lying across his bed in a pair of clean sleeping clothes, his husky lying at his feet. When Phichit neared the bed, Jin lifted his head to lazily watch him.

He smiled and gave the large dog a good night pat before crawling under the duvet beside his boyfriend. Seung-gil immediately rolled over and slipped an arm around his waist, his cheek finding a resting spot on Phichit’s chest once again.

“Good night,” Phichit said and kissed his forehead.

Seung-gil hummed sleepily.


	9. Move

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As always, thanks for dropping comments and kudos and I appreciate the bookmarking! 
> 
> I've been able to talk to some of you on twitter and I'd love to talk with you all if you have an account! Don't let seungchuchu die! Spread the word!
> 
> If you have any prompts or requests, leave it in a comment or @ me on twitter (@cosmonautfield)

* * *

“We can’t put the table there.”

“But my hamsters!”

“The shelving won’t fit anywhere else and this wall has no windows that will be blocked.”

“What about my hamsters? Look at them! They’re tired and need a place to rest.”

“They’re in a cage. Set them on a box for now. They’re fine.”

Phichit huffed.

“Jin is so lucky. He can live freely while these guys are only allowed to live in some corners of the house.”

He pouted and set the hamster cage atop a cardboard box labeled ‘television.’ There was no television inside, only his collection of DVDs and games that he’d accrued since childhood. Only the most treasured of his media had been kept and sent to this new apartment that Seung-gil had found for them in Seoul. The rest had been sold or given away to relatives and friends.

“I’ll have to set up their real house later when they’re awake. The travel cage is too cramped,” Phichit muttered to himself and maneuvered around a stack of boxes.

It had been hard choosing what to bring with him since Seung-gil had his own assortment of furniture as well from living alone for several years. His previous apartment had been spacious, and this new one reminded Phichit of the family home he’d left in Thailand.

“I can work on the bedroom,” Seung-gil said and was down the hall before Phichit could answer. He sighed again and decided to organize things in the kitchen.

It took two hours to settle everything in place and the living room seemed messier with the shift of boxes and gathering of empty ones in various corners. He checked on his hamsters several times and decided to set up their real housing, a long and deep storage container.

Jin got up from his afternoon nap near the balcony and nudged at Phichit’s arm. He smiled as he settled the last hamster into the freshly spread wood chips before giving the husky a pat on the head.

“Seung-gil has been busy for a while. Maybe he’s doing the bathroom already. Let’s check!”

He made his way down the hall, Jin trotting after him, and he frowned when he saw that the bathroom was still void of their belongings. Not even a single towel hung on the rack, which surprised Phichit. Perhaps Seung-gil was slower at unpacking and organizing than throwing things into a box.

He stepped further down the hall, peeking through the open doorway of their shared bedroom, and he chuckled when he saw Seung-gil sprawled out on the tucked bedsheets, fast asleep. Jin whined and stepped over to nuzzle one of the legs hanging over the edge of the bed. Phichit took a seat on the brand-new mattress and reached out to run his fingers through Seung-gil’s hair.

“He’s completely dead,” he whispered and laid down beside him. His eyes immediately shut and his body welcomed a chance to get rest. There would be plenty of time later to settle down together.


	10. Silver

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The future we liberals want, tbh.
> 
> I had a hard time deciding between ring or medal. It was like the episode 9 preview all over again!
> 
> There were several more hits to this fic since yesterday's update. Thanks for that!

* * *

 

Phichit wiped the last of his tears from his cheeks and gave his coach a stronger hug before stepping down the rug toward the rostrum. He waved to the crowd, giving the corner with the most Thai flags several air kisses before slowly ascending to the center stand. He stood with his chin raised while waiting for the other two medalists to join him.

To his left stood Leo, grinning and waving to the audience, and at his right was Seung-gil, stoic and staring ahead at the flashing cameras without the hint of a smile on his face.

“Seung-gil, be cheery!” Phichit teased and reached out to poke the other’s cheek, a habit that had stuck with the couple since the budding of their friendship into a relationship.

He received the narrowing of steel eyes and chuckled before bowing low to accept the golden medal around his neck. Another wave of tears sprung to the edge of his eyelids, and he blinked quickly to clear them away before they could fall. He accepted a bouquet and stared down to admire the petals, his vision blurring. It took a lot of willpower to keep his face dry. There would be plenty more time to cry later on, perhaps when he was changing into his jersey and away from public scrutiny.

“Silly, don’t cry,” he heard beside him and turned to his right as a gloved hand rose to brush his bottom lashes.

At that moment, the crowd cheered loudly as Phleng Chat Thai burst over the speakers. Phichit heard the announcements going off, watched the camera bulbs flash, but it all blended together as he gazed into Seung-gil’s eyes.

“Congratulations,” the silver medalist mouthed before turning away to cooperate with the paparazzi.

Phichit turned to look over at the friend to his left and almost started crying all over again when he saw the tear tracks on his cheeks. Leo looked up at him and grinned brightly. Losing all sense of decorum, he threw an arm around Phichit’s torso.

“We did it!” Leo cheered, thrusting his bouquet to the sky with his bronze held firmly in the other hand.

The audience went wild as the two hugged, and when it was time to step down for the more informal shots, Phichit practically tackled him in excitement. Seung-gil stood impassively a small distance away, face blank and items held loosely in his grip.

When Phichit turned to hug him, he sighed in the usual long-suffering manner and leaned several inches closer in his direction.

“I love you,” Phichit whispered in his ear, to which Seung-gil only hummed. It was hard to hear.

Phichit reached for the silver medal and held it up beside his own before leaning over to give both a kiss. The cheers were punctuated by the more hysterical shrieks of long-time fans of him and Seung-gil, but nothing was more deafening than the pounding of his own heart when the other skater leaned in close to whisper something back.


	11. Prepared

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I was so sleepy from work last night that I forgot to write a drabble for yesterday! And now I have to write one for today! Which hopefully can come tonight, after I work again. (I just came back from my first job, had time to write this one, and it's off to the next one!)
> 
> This one links with Chapter 4, "Sightseeing."
> 
> From what I'm told, Seung-gil's coach's name is Min-so Park? Is it? I don't even know if his dog is named Jin. It's just based off my Twitter RP. Well, regardless. Here you are. Enjoy!

* * *

Min-so took care of Seung-gil’s social media usage and fanbase due to the skater’s lack of interpersonal interest. She opened gifts from fans and either sent them to his house or brought them herself. She posted a weekly photo of him at practice either on the ice or at the studio when she needed to chaperone.

There were days he wouldn’t eat, figuring his body would retain normal functioning until such and such hours passed without nourishment. These were his worst days, when his perfection obsession grew so strong he didn’t notice the increase in his chances of self-injury. These days were followed with his absence as he holed himself up in his apartment. These days were the ones when his Instagram was spammed with endless husky pictures.

Min-so was genuinely shocked during one of these periods of solitude when Seung-gil uploaded a photo of another person. She heard a rumor through the Internet grapevine, originating from his South Korean fanclub, that was beginning to circulate into the outer, international web space.

The photo was of Thailand’s greatest figure skater in all its short history in the sport, sitting at Seung-gil’s corner table, eating breakfast, and smiling brightly at the camera. The photo was clear, filters had been used, and for a second Min-so was certain that someone had hacked her most promising pupil’s account.

Then she remembered the Four Continents several months previous, the exchange between Seung-gil and this other young man, Phichit Chulanont. She especially recalled that Seung-gil didn’t seem to care when Phichit wrapped an arm around his shoulders during the pre-competition practice or when Phichit dragged him to the hotel with the other competitors to shower and get ready for a day of sight-seeing.

Something had changed in him, and when Min-so saw this photo of Phichit, she knew why.

Several hours after that photo was posted—and several more hours of anxiously watching the rumors fly about and wondering if she’d have to do any damage control—another one was released. This one held the record for longest stare at a picture on Seung-gil Lee’s Instagram.

It was a close-up of the two and right against their backs was an entanglement of what appeared to be metal locks. Phichit was grinning brightly at the camera and pointing at a single lock hanging in the space between them. As she zoomed in, Min-so recognized Seung-gil’s name written on one-half and something in a different language written on the other.

The explosion of online gossip and speculation thrown about on various social media platforms was out of her control. Everyone knew what that wall of locks was and if they didn’t, several people were quick to jump in and explain. Min-so could only sit back and watch, waiting on pins for the Korea Skating Union to contact her.

She didn’t know what she’d say—personally Seung-gil having a love interest with a rival skater was not a big issue—but she’d do whatever possible to protect him.


	12. Spice

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> For some reason, I imagine Phichit being able to eat spicier food than Seung-gil. Really, really spicy. And dinner is always fun when vegetables are involved.
> 
> Thanks for the kudos and comments! Don't be shy to drop a few more!

* * *

 

The living room was filled with howls of laughter punctuated with breathlessness and a dash of snorting. Phichit tried his best to stay quiet, but the gasping fish impression by Seung-gil was too much for him to handle.

“Not water! Yogurt!” he managed to shout through another fit of giggles and he reached across the table to hand the drink to Seung-gil.

He wiped the tears from his eyes and watched as half the glass was chugged.

“It’s good we bought the larger bottle,” he noted and took a sip of water before digging into his bowl of noodles again.

The flames from the seasoning barely gave his tongue a tingle, and he was disappointed they didn’t have additional spice to add. With an impish grin, he swallowed down another mouthful of soup, exhaling after to expel the slight heat.

“I told you,” he teased in a sing-song tone and grinned when Seung-gil huffed, “You can’t out-spice me. I’ve been eating peppers since I was a baby.”

“I’ve never had to think of ways I could cut my mouth out or swallow a glacier,” Seung-gil muttered and picked at his bowl of plain, white rice.

Phichit reached across the table to squeeze one of his round cheeks and chuckled when Seung-gil snapped his teeth at him. He tutted at his boyfriend and helped to remove some noodles from his bowl, setting them on a plate.

“Just don’t drink the soup anymore. The noodles should be fine if you eat them with veggies and rice,” he said in a kinder tone, the laughter completely shaken from him.

“I hate these vegetables,” Seung-gil automatically responded, “You should’ve gotten all broccoli.”

Phichit rolled his eyes.

“You’re such a baby.”

Seung-gil huffed again and ate the noodles freed from the liquid fire, taking sips of the yogurt drink in-between as the heat in his mouth slowly dissipated. Phichit finished his soup with a contented smacking of lips and began popping pieces of steamed veggies into his mouth. He exaggerated his noises of satisfaction, watching Seung-gil’s face contort from annoyance to disgust.

“I take it you shouldn’t let me choose the spice level anymore?” Phichit teased.

“Don’t choose the vegetables either. Or, no vegetables ever,” Seung-gil replied and pushed his bowl of blazing soup to the side.

“Alright, so tomorrow is salad.”

Seung-gil rolled his eyes at the age-old joke and reached across to pick up the last piece of broccoli from Phichit’s bowl. Phichit whined and tried to fight for it with his own pair of chopsticks, easily losing.

“Payment for my suffering,” Seung-gil explained and ate it in one bite. He made his own sounds of enjoyment, loud enough to curl Phichit’s mouth into a frown.

With a sigh, he gathered up the dishes.

“I’m going to make you a cabbage salad,” he threatened, “With extra green peppers and onions tossed in.”

He smiled triumphantly as Seung-gil chewed wordlessly, eyes narrowing at the challenge. Dinner was always an event in the Lee-Chulanont household.


	13. Denial

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know absolutely nothing about the military draft/mandatory service in both Thailand and South Korea. I'm just basing this drabble on the bits and pieces I've read from Google. Please correct me if need be!
> 
> Drop a comment if you can! They really drive me forward to continue writing.

* * *

“And if you pick red?”

“Then I’ll be gone for two years of service.”

Phichit winced at Seung-gil’s long sigh on the other end of the video call. He sat stiff on the school gymnasium floor, crossed legs trembling from anxiety. He could see the officials up ahead, preparing the ominous tickets for the drawing.

“I’ll have to join,” Seung-gil said quietly. It was Phichit’s turn to sigh. At least he had some chance of escape. Seung-gil was unlucky.

“I want to skate,” Phichit whispered to hide the hitching in his voice. His eyes began to well up again at the thought of having to leave the ice for two years. “I told Ciao Ciao that if I draw red, then I’ll announce retirement.”

“No!”

Phichit flinched at the sudden shout and slapped a hand over his phone, as if that would retract the scratchy tone resulting from the high-volume of the response.

“I’d be putting myself on hold for two years! There’s no way I can come back after that. I’ll be twenty-three years old,” he reasoned. His heart sank and beat faster at the realization that his skating career might prematurely reach its end.

“You can dance during your off time. Practice when you can, you won’t lose your skills,” Seung-gil lectured, brows remaining furrowed.

It sounded possible but Phichit knew he wouldn’t have any time nor any ice to skate on. His entire body shivered, overcome with trembling as his nerves entered overdrive. He wasn’t ready to say farewell to competition and traveling and his blades crossing the ice. He still had to create his ice show and join his friends on the podium. There were more medals to win and old scores to conquer.

“I don’t want this,” he whispered, biting back a sob.

He’d worked so hard his whole life, moved across the world to train with one of the best coaches, made wonderful friends, survived the horrors of defeat, and tasted triumph. For it all to end today, with an unlucky draw of a red ticket, he would break.

“You’ll pull the right one,” Seung-gil said, voice grave, brows furrowed now in worry, “You’ll get the black ticket and then you can come visit me before I have to leave.”

Phichit knew Seung-gil was taking his own country’s draft hard as well, especially since there was no escaping it. Not even the Olympics could save him from the law.

He took a few moments to breathe deeply and jumped when a voice blared an announcement over the speakers.

“It’s time,” he whispered to the phone, eyes trained on the first person who stood and went to draw a ticket. He swallowed hard, gaze flickering back to Seung-gil on the screen of his phone.

“You can do it,” Seung-gil reassured him and smiled. It almost looked like a smirk, like he was certain of the future because he held it in the palms of his hands.

Phichit could only nod, return the smile, and pray.


	14. Looks

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Continuation of the previous chapter. Huehuehue. How dare I???
> 
> Comments are much appreciated!

* * *

 

It was no laughing matter, so Seung-gil couldn’t understand how Phichit had managed to roll backwards off the bed and was still lying across the floor in a fit of giggles. He stared with a dull expression at the odd angle of the ceiling. Phichit had taken his phone with him to the ground and from the slight shaking, Seung-gil deduced it was still sitting in his palm.

“S-s-s-s-sorry, haha, oh, oh gosh, I’m so sorry!” Phichit stammered and his face came into view.

When he caught sight of Seung-gil again, his eyes widened and he slapped a hand over his mouth to contain his laughter.

“Done?” Seung-gil inquired impatiently and glanced up when he heard a door open. He nodded to his bunkmate.

“It looks good on you,” Phichit said, “Your hair is usually thick and fluffy. Bald is a nice change!”

The mischievous twinkle in his dark, grey eyes suddenly faded, replaced with a flat shine. He attempted a smile but it came off as superficial. Nothing about him was ever superficial.

“Lights out soon,” Seung-gil said quietly, wishing only Phichit could hear his voice right now. He’d never had a roommate and he wasn’t sure he could survive the next two years with one. His peaceful solitude had vanished overnight.

“Please be safe,” Phichit answered in a tone reserved for his moments of hurt, “Come back soon.”

They didn’t live together, but Seung-gil wanted to return to what they once had. The early morning greetings, the late-night texts, the hours-long video calls that sometimes ended with Phichit dozing off or one of their phones dying before they could reach a charger. Min-so’s amused look when he skated off the ice to take a quick phone call instead of returning to perfecting his new quad. The warmth of Phichit’s hands, the pressure of his weight when he leaned, but even more the softness of his skin the first time they took things a step further.

Soon was two years. Twenty-one months, really, and he’d written the number of days down somewhere.

It was not soon.

“We won’t be doing anything dangerous,” Seung-gil mused, trying to be reassuring in the only way he knew how.

It wasn’t enough.

“I love you,” he corrected himself.

Phichit’s face lit up and Seung-gil knew he’d scored some points with that cheery look.

They’d barely known one another, barely started dating, and here he was already spouting lines like those cheesy dramas Phichit became obsessed with after seeing one episode during his visit. At least Seung-gil was using English and hopefully his bunkmate, who’d crawled into bed, was either already asleep or hadn’t recognized the phrase.

“Call me again, okay? Promise?” Phichit pleaded, eyes shining with something different.

“Maybe in a week. I’ll do what I can. I’m not even supposed to have this right now.”

“Ooh, you’re such a rebel. Breaking all the rules.”

Seung-gil smirked at the remark.

“Only with you.”

The shimmer in Phichit’s eyes shifted again to something brighter.


	15. Wind

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Over 800 hits on this fic! Yay! Hope you all are enjoying it so far! 
> 
> This one takes place sometime after season 1, when Phichit and Seung-gil haven't officially started dating.
> 
> And remember, you can always drop me a prompt/request for a drabble. And hit me up on twitter (@pickledbrows yeah I changed it) whenever to talk and cry about seungchuchu!

* * *

Japanese summers were humid, but today was overcast, which meant less harsh sunlight. Yuuri’s mother decided to pack a lunch for her visiting son, his fiancé, and their guest, and ushered them off to a beach picnic.

They made their way on foot with Makkachin. Phichit took a few candid shots of Yuuri and Viktor holding hands, the wind tousling their hair. He didn’t want to bother them on this impromptu romantic walk, so he stayed behind with Makkachin to take his touristy photos.

“Did you sleep well last night?” Yuuri called back to him and Phichit looked over from where he’d stopped to take a photo of a statue outside a restaurant.

“Yup! The bed was soft. The, um…crouton?”

It earned him dual chuckles. How cute.

“Futon. And I’m glad you’re okay with it,” Yuuri replied.

Phichit caught up to them and Makkachin trotted along beside Viktor who took a moment to ruffle the dog’s fluffy ears while cooing in Russian.

When they arrived, a few people were sitting with their toes in the water or walking along the shore. Phichit immediately held up his phone to take more pictures of the open water, no boats, and what looked to be mountains or islands not too far off. He inhaled deeply, enjoying the fresh air.

He yelped when something cold touched his cheek and whirled about, fingers touching the cool spot left behind. Yuuri laughed and handed him the can of iced coffee his mother had packed along with their boxed lunches, an impressive tower of several, wide containers stuffed with an assortment of dishes.

“Let’s eat? Or do you just want to walk?” Yuuri asked. Viktor was already seated on a spread blanket, shoes kicked off, legs stretched out, and Makkachin’s head on his lap.

“Mm. I want to take some more photos,” Phichit answered and watched as Yuuri and Viktor made eye contact and nodded.

Without asking, Yuuri followed along. Phichit didn’t question him.

The friends were silent for several minutes, Phichit bouncing in excitement with his phone when a ferry passed. His toes tapped something hard and he looked down to see a rusty key in the sand. He picked it up and methodically turned it over in his palm.

“How are things?” Yuuri hesitantly asked in a tone that begged for honesty.

“He said he wanted to go out,” Phichit said as neutrally as possible.

The key felt heavy in his palm.

“Was this the only reason you flew all the way out to Hasetsu? Just to tell me this?” Yuuri teased.

Phichit dropped the key and buried it with a kick of sand.

“You asked me to join you and Viktor for the summer festival,” he reminded. With his head bowed, he continued in a softer tone, “And isn’t Hasetsu the place people run to when they’ve fallen in love?”

He tipped his chin up in the direction of Viktor and Makkachin, eyes twinkling, and Yuuri chuckled lightly.

It was the only answer needed.


	16. Seungchuchu Week, Day 1: Pets

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Seungchuchu Week has begun! Right on time!
> 
> Drop me a comment and some kudos if you haven't! Thanks for reading~

* * *

“Dogs are so cute!”

“Yeah.”

“Jin is such a sweetheart.”

“Yeah.”

“I wish I could teach my hamsters tricks.”

“Mm-hm.”

“You know what’s cuter than a dog?”

“Phichit—”

“Nope! Two dogs!”

“—What do you want?”

Phichit glanced up from his phone, a cheeky grin on his face. If Seung-gil ever had to describe him as an animal, it’d be a monkey. A mischievous, crafty trickster whose deceptions he always fell victim.

“Look at the new puppy Yuuri and Viktor got!” he exclaimed and turned his phone to show Seung-gil the photo.

A quick glance at the tiny poodle sitting atop Makkachin’s back in the photo had Seung-gil’s heart thumping a little too hard. He hoped to meet the little guy when they visited Phichit’s best friend next month.

More importantly, Seung-gil loved dogs and couldn’t lie. He couldn’t possibly lie about the lovable little dog, but he wasn’t about to confess aloud that seeing the fluffy creature gave him a strange stomach flutter.

“I guess.”

Phichit huffed at that, pouting in that way only Phichit ever could without making Seung-gil want to smack him, and turned to rest his side against the sofa. Seung-gil put his book down and scooted closer, leaning against Phichit’s back and resting his chin on his shoulder.

“You know what’s cuter than two dogs?” he queried.

“What?”

Seung-gil smiled secretly.

“Two dogs that are ours,” he replied smoothly and pressed a kiss against the back of Phichit’s ear.

Phichit continued his little game of cold shoulder, but when Seung-gil wrapped an arm around him and nuzzled along his neck and nape, he finally giggled. Tickles were the easiest way to get him out of a funk, even at the tender age of twenty-one.

“Can I pick the puppy?” Phichit asked and flopped down across Seung-gil’s lap to look up at him. His grey eyes glistened with joy.

What twenty-one-year old?

“Let me research what’s compatible with an old dog like Jin,” Seung-gil said and plucked up Phichit’s phone.

It earned him a surprised gasp followed by a sharp prodding at his ribs. Ouch. With one hand, he grabbed the offending digit, and eventually the rest of their fingers tangled together.

“I’m going to save the pictures to your gallery of dogs that work well with older huskies. You can scroll through them later,” Seung-gil said and tapped away.

“Or, we can browse together and choose!”

“Let me rephrase. I’m going to show you the dogs I’m okay with. Then you can pick from there.”

Another attempt at a poke had his stoic façade quirking into a grin. He tried to hide it, especially his teeth. How embarrassing.

“Patience,” he droned and gave the hand he held a squeeze.

Phichit squeezed back, a bit too tightly, and then announced that he heard the hamster wheel turning and needed to check the critters’ cage.

“Get something super fluffy and round!” he said with a sing-song tone.

Seung-gil snorted. That’s exactly what he was looking for.


	17. Seungchuchu Week, Day 2: Fashion

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Other than the galaxy sweater and his exhibition program outfit (from the calendar), Phichit dresses rather modestly. Long sleeves most of the time. I have no idea how he survives with them in Bangkok. He's probably fashionable to some extent though. More than Seung-gil, who literally doesn't care about clothes. Haha.
> 
> Thanks for reading! Let's enjoy more Seungchuchu week!

* * *

 

Fashion was not Seung-gil’s forte and he didn’t think he’d ever have an opinion on it. Not until Phichit walked out of the bedroom sporting a plain, red T-shirt, and a pair of shorts. Above-the-knee, frayed hem shorts. Made from denim.

Seung-gil squinted at them.

“Did you cut those yourself?” he asked, cautious so as not to upset Phichit.

When it came to questioning fashion choices, he’d found the best way to approach was to not approach at all. Phichit was particular about what he wore and swore he had important statements to make, even with a sweater vest.

At Seung-gil’s query, he glanced down at his bottom article of clothing, then back up with a raised brow.

“Yes. Why?”

There it was. Time to tread carefully.

“I’ve never seen them before.”

Safe. Neutral.

Phichit beamed up at Seung-gil and he inwardly exhaled in relief.

“I cut them from a pair of old jeans! I saw a how-to on Instagram and wanted to have jorts for the summer.”

“Jorts?”

Phichit nodded to him before skipping along to get his phone where he’d left it on the living room table to charge. He slid it into his bag before leaning over to check on his hamsters. They were sleeping, either tucked in their wooden house or under their bedding and toilet paper pieces.

Seung-gil stared at Phichit’s backside, at the threads hanging from the hem that rode up his thighs.

“They’re a bit short,” he noted.

“They’re jorts! They need to be short. And anyway, it’s summer!”

Phichit walked over to him and took hold of his hand, leading him to the front door. Jin sat there patiently, knowing it was time for their early afternoon walk. He had the leash in his mouth and Phichit took hold of it before clipping it onto his collar. He gave the dog a pat on the head.

“Jorts,” Seung-gil repeated, trying to keep his tone even.

“Jean shorts. Jorts!”

Phichit shot a bright smile at him once more and opened the front door of their home, Seung-gil followed along, locking the door behind him, and then they made their way to the stairs, holding hands while Jin trotted along beside Phichit.

As soon as they were outside the apartment building, Seung-gil cursed under his breath at the heat and wished for a second that he’d put on some shorts for himself. He’d just suffer the next hour in his pants.

“I bet you want a pair now,” Phichit sang, sliding on his sunglasses before taking hold of his hand again, “I could cut those old jeans you have when we get home!”

“Don’t bother,” Seung-gil mumbled. He didn’t care about fashion, but he wasn’t going to risk following Phichit’s trends of having clothes that rode up and showed his butt cheeks.

He tried to peek down at his boyfriend’s bottom again, wondering if they’d ride up any higher as they walked. He couldn’t have that either.

“Too short,” he grumbled and Phichit laughed.


	18. Seungchuchu Week, Day 3: Communication

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well, look at that. I raised the rating on my own because nobody else wanted to shoot me prompts/requests. 
> 
> This collection is almost at 1000 hits! Yay!

* * *

 

After tightening the straps of the gag, Seung-gil gave it a light tug, then bent over to Phichit’s ear.

“Stay quiet unless you want another visit from the police,” he whispered huskily and bit Phichit’s lobe before sitting back up.

He wrapped the pair of smooth, tanned legs he was sitting between around his waist and slid back in slowly. Phichit’s eyes shut tight and his moan was muffled by the ball in his mouth.

Good.

Seung-gil railed on him hard. He’d pulled the bed frame away from the wall earlier so it wouldn’t slam and alert the neighbors, a good move on his part.

Phichit huffed, hands reaching to wrap around Seung-gil’s neck. His nails dug hard into Seung-gil’s shoulders, his legs curled tighter, and he began to buck to the rhythm.

“Quit it,” Seung-gil rasped and Phichit countered by thrusting against him, his abdomen quaking to keep the position.

Tying Phichit to the bed would’ve probably been better. His body spoke without need for his voice, the way it gyrated, scratched, and squeezed. Phichit managed to clench around Seung-gil’s erection and he bit back a guttered moan, glaring down at twinkling, grey eyes.

Seung-gil sat up straight, untangled himself from Phichit’s legs, and grabbed them by the ankles. With a smirk, he hauled them straight up so his lover’s body was set at a right angle. Yes, as right as could be. Phichit felt good around him in this position and Seung-gil threw his head back, hips driving wilder, faster. He wrapped his arms around Phichit’s knees, shutting his eyes and pressing his face into tense calves.

Phichit mewled, hands grasping at Seung-gil’s arms at the loss of control over how he wanted to position his body. Their hands connected, squeezed, and Seung-gil allowed their fingers to lace.

More.

Good.

Harder, like that, yes.

There!

The digging into the fleshy meat of his thumbs told him how fast. The warm, tightened pulse engulfing him told him where. The shift and strain to spread sweat-slicked thighs told him he was on perfectly on target.

Seung-gil breathed deeply, pausing to reposition his knees as his thighs ached, and he winced when he received a harsh scratch on his forearm. He made up for the halt by parting Phichit’s legs, falling forward with his hands on either side of the other’s shoulders, and propelling his hips at a speed that had the bed inching back to the wall.

Phichit turned to press his cheek into the pillow, his bottom lip and chin dribbling saliva, and his hand moved down his own body so he could stroke himself to completion. Seung-gil’s fingers dug creases into the blanket beneath them as he edged his way to his own release, and he didn’t bother muffling his voice when he found it.

With a sigh, he settled his nose into Phichit’s neck and inhaled deeply. The hand in his hair, the lazily spread legs, and the beating against his chest told him Phichit was satisfied.


	19. Seungchuchu Week, Day 4: Winter

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Over 1000 hits! And more comments and kudos! Thanks so much, as always! Today's prompt was the free one for seungchuchu week, so I just chose "winter" from my original prompt list. 
> 
> This one is a little longer than 500 words but why not? It needed a bit extra to convey all it had to.
> 
> Also, what are timelines? Timelines? What's that?
> 
> Enjoy!

* * *

Seung-gil returned with the snow. His plane landed smoothly on the freshly cleared tarmac, and he lugged his bag over his shoulder as he exited to the lobby. The world seemed brand new to him, starting with several changes to the airport train terminal he’d once used as much as his own front door. Once aboard the express train, he wrapped his scarf tighter around his neck and slumped in his seat, head bowed and eyes closed.

Seeing his apartment brought nostalgia. He stared at the front door before opening it and when he took his first step inside, he experienced a sharp pang in his chest.

A family member, some distant cousin, had stayed here for him during the last twenty-something months and only left the previous week when he’d announced his return date. Jin had been well taken care of, with the cousin coming every day to walk and feed him, and he greeted Seung-gil with a rushed tackle and plenty of licks to the face.

“How’ve you been?” Seung-gil asked the dog, ruffling around his ears and down his neck.

He gave him a strong hug, feeling a prickle in the corner of his eyes. Jin pranced around him, overcome with joy at the reunion, and trotted along to the living room where Seung-gil dropped his heavy duffel onto the couch. He intended on unpacking it when he had the motivation, wanting instead to tour his home, as if for the first time.

Everything was where he’d left it. At his feet, Jin followed faithfully, and when Seung-gil moved into his room and flopped onto the bed, the dog lay on the floor beneath his feet.

The room was cold since the heater had been turned off, and Seung-gil was far too lazy to flip it on. With a sigh, he reached into his coat pocket to pull out his phone and various other trinkets he’d stuffed in there—like his airplane boarding pass. He checked for any notifications, and after a few lazy scrolls through Instagram—he almost didn’t recognize the interface—he opened his contacts and selected a familiar number to video call.

“Seung-gil!?”

He hummed in response and gave a curt wave to Phichit on the small screen. He’d have to get a new phone tomorrow. The screen on his current one had been terribly cracked.

“You’re home!” Phichit shrieked and offered his brightest smile. Seung-gil could only offer his smaller, tired one.

“Yeah. I have a favor,” he said.                                              

“Yes? I’m here! I’m listening!”

“Move in with me?”

It wasn’t as sudden as it sounded because he’d been thinking about it since the military had taken him away from the ice. He’d just never mentioned it to Phichit, and he could tell he’d shocked the other male considering his gaped mouth.

“You mean live together?” Phichit whispered. His voice was trembling.

Seung-gil hummed and rolled over onto his side, his arm pillowing his head. He pulled off his knit cap and vaguely hoped his hair would grow back fast.

“Yeah. I’m disappointed I couldn’t come home to you,” he confessed and snorted when Phichit dramatically threw a hand over his mouth. His dark grey eyes sparkled with unshed tears. It was ridiculously cute.

“O-okay! I mean, there’s so much I have to discuss with my family. And Ciao Ciao! But I want to. I have to! We can finally wake up to each other and I don’t have to wait for your phone calls to say hello!”

Phichit rambled on and on about his wishes, concerns, and plans for the next few weeks. Seung-gil listened to him without speaking, eyes focused on the dimple in Phichit’s left cheek, the lift of his brows and wrinkles between them, and the curve of his lips when he shifted between elation and anxiety.

Everything had been missed terribly the last couple of years.

Seung-gil wasn’t sure when he’d fallen asleep, but when he woke up, the call was disconnected, the room dark, and he had one new message from Phichit. It was a possible flight itinerary for a one-way ticket between Bangkok and Seoul, and Seung-gil spent several minutes memorizing it down to the seat number Phichit had selected. He felt a need to upgrade it to first class, if possible. He wanted Phichit to come to him in style.


	20. Seungchuchu week, Day 5: Contemporary Fantasy

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I enjoyed writing this one so much! I'm not one for writing fantasy drama because I feel my vocabulary is not extensive, so I'm proud of what I have here. I went more with urban/modern fantasy.
> 
> I never have my works checked, so if I make mistakes or my writing gets cloudy, do let me know!

* * *

Seung-gil would’ve never imagined that seven years of studying at a university would lead to collecting sand thousands of miles beneath the ocean’s surface. He wasn’t physically bottling up the sediment—his degree and several certifications allowed him access to a deep-sea robot avatar—but he would’ve preferred that to sitting in a dark room and fiddling with joysticks.

He blinked rapidly to wet his dry eyes, wishing he could stop to put his drops in, but there was no pausing an assignment like this. The robot could only last so long in the intense pressure and the team was waiting for his samples. Several had already been taken throughout the last couple of days, but there was one more place he needed to check before finishing.

He swept the floor of the cavern with the robot’s eyes, looking for the appropriate rock to chip at, and he frowned when he seemed to be stuck and couldn’t descend further. He pressed a few buttons to switch to the camera on the robot’s back and did a full rotation of the area to see if something had snagged. It wasn’t feasible, considering he was in an open space. Nothing entangling like seaweed could grow this far away from sunlight.

The camera view was jostled, the flashlight flickering several times, and he cursed under his breath when his screen went black. There went a piece of expensive equipment. He switched back to the previous camera and inhaled sharply when he was met with a pair of bioluminescent eyes. They blinked in rapid succession before backing up, revealing a face.

Eyes, nostrils, mouth, scales on cheeks, ears, no, fins? Something like hair?

His own eyes widened at the sight of a translucent, humanoid figure, swaying in the still water. Humanoid because it had what seemed to be arms, a torso, neck, and head. It most certainly was not bipedal though.

“Holy fuck.”

He blinked and was left with the after image of what might’ve been its tail.

Tail!?

“Shit!”

The screen began a dizzying dance of rapidly scanning from one direction to the next as he desperately searched with the camera. He cursed the robot’s slow speed and shot up from his chair, hurtling himself to the other laptop. It controlled the robot’s recording device, and he clicked his way through various windows and programs, mind racing on overdrive and autopilot.

“No no no no! No!”

He hadn’t turned it on! He hadn’t been recording a second of the entire last hour-and-a-half.

A loud curse echoed throughout the room and he slammed his hands atop the desk, the equipment jumping from the impact. He cursed several more times and accompanied every syllable with a banging and pounding of his fists.

Another monitor began to beep, signaling that he was out of time for this round, and he released a final, frustrated grunt before sitting back down and grabbing the controller.

He needed to return as soon as the robot was ready to go. He wrote down the exact location of where he’d seen the mysterious animal, memorizing the values down to the thousandth decimals. He couldn’t believe what he’d seen but he knew he couldn’t deny the myths and sailor drivel that fantasy writers turned into books, movies, and comics.

Tomorrow he’d be back. Even tonight if it was necessary to ease the pounding of blood in his ears. He had to return as soon as he could, even if it meant wasting a day out at sea.

The professor’s ten-year long project be damned.

Seung-gil had no idea what he’d do if he met camera-to-face with those glowing eyes again, but he now understood the words of his small-town fisherman father, words that had led to strife and contempt in their relationship until the older man’s premature death.

He maneuvered the robot out of the cavern and set the controls for its automatic, gradual ascent. He watched with dry, blurred eyes as the darkness of the screen bled into sunlit blue. Inside of him, the sudden, uncontrollable obsession to learn all he knew about the creature down below began to deepen.

He’d never stop. He’d die a bitter, unhappy man like his father if he never saw those eyes again. He’d been hypnotized and could feel the thirst for knowledge renewing, as if it had never dwindled under mundane research papers on topics hundreds of people before him had tackled.

This was all his for the taking.

He was a pioneer.

This was his discovery to make.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Seung-gil is operating Stanford's OceanOne. So cool. I'm such a geek for these things. And yes, this is also my contribution to Mermay. Because mermaid Phichit is a rare, rare thing.


	21. Seungchuchu Week, Day 6: Future

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I turned it into a Cowboy Bebop AU. Oops. I'm not good at historical settings so why not turn it into an AU about actual space? I came home from work wanting to listen to Jupiter Jazz and here I am. I hardly even remember Spike, Jet, and their shenanigans but that series still touches my soul's memory. Somehow.
> 
> I also slipped in some mafia AU. I just keep layering them all together fun!
> 
> Thanks for reading! Hope you enjoy this one as well! We're on the last leg of this collection!

* * *

Mars was vibrant, and not just because of the iron oxide that caused the surface to bleed bright red. Life was plentiful with the success of the artificial atmosphere and shopping was an extravagant adventure. If Phichit wanted to, he could pick up a box of freshly baked croissants from one store, then walk across the street to another for a rifle. Today was not one of those days.

He whistled as he made his way through a crowd of wealthy tourists, listening half-heartedly as the leader of the group boasted about the day’s exciting outing, all expenses paid on his behalf.

Not without a wallet, Phichit thought with a smirk as he slipped right by the man, his hand quickly divesting him of his back-pocket treasure.

He’d learned at the start that cash was plentiful on Mars if your hands were light. He slid the hefty leather accessory into his empty pocket and turned down a main road, easily blending in with the crowd.

Another abundance on Mars was the towering buildings that blocked the sky, not that it was much to look at. Phichit hadn’t been in most of the ones in Tharsis, only the important ones, and the building he was visiting today was one of the tallest with the tightest security.

No ID or sneaking was needed for him to get in. As soon as he neared the entrance, his presence would be announced from lobby to the highest floor, his destination. He cheerfully greeted the guards, his steps steady and smooth as he headed for the private elevator. Someone was already inside—his job was to press buttons, probably—and Phichit gave him his happiest of good afternoons.

“Busy day?” he asked as the elevator hummed on its ascent.

He received a curt shake of the head and sighed. Loudly. Dramatically, signaling his disappointment.

“Not at all, sir,” the guard answered hastily and bowed his head in silent apology.  

The smile returned to Phichit’s face, and he decided not to badger the guard with meaningless small talk. The guy seemed nervous enough from not answering his one and only question properly. When they reached the right floor, he gave a wave and stepped off, heading right down the hallway for the one set of doors at the very end. He spotted a familiar figure and perked up.

“Leo! I didn’t know you were on shift today!” he exclaimed joyously and rushed to the lone guard.

He received the hug he sought, a firm one thankfully, and then Leo graciously opened one of the doors for him.

Phichit reached for the wallet he’d picked up earlier and pulled out several bills, tucking them into the front pocket of Leo’s coat.

“If you’re here, that means the sweetest visitor this side of the System is here as well,” he chirped and stepped inside, turning down Leo’s protest of returning the money with, “Take him out somewhere nice once he’s done with this meeting.”

He gave Leo’s chest a soft pat and stepped inside the room, ignoring the wall of televisions showing security camera feed and news broadcasts from around the Solar System. The men in suits watching stood to formally greet him with deep bows, and he gave a quick wave before heading toward the final set of doors on the other side.

“I hope they’re not too serious,” he murmured and pushed one door open, peeking inside.

Whatever conversation had been held immediately paused and two pairs of eyes turned in his direction, one curious, the other cold.

“Phichit!”

He grinned and opened his arms as his closest friend bounded over from where he’d been sitting. They wrapped each other up in a warm embrace and exchanged pleasantries before making their way back to the plush, velvet seats.

“Seung-gil was telling me about your recent trip to Jupiter. During the week I was away,” Guang Hong said and pouted.

Phichit laughed and took a seat on the sofa, his friend sitting at his side.

“You’ve been taking good care of the place since your uncle stepped down from the Syndicate on that side,” he praised and Guang Hong beamed with pride.

“Security could use some tightening,” Seung-gil cut in, always up for a bit of discouraging.

Phichit waved a hand at him.

“I think they were fine! It’s just too bad that you and Leo were out. We would’ve loved to have you show us around. Maybe take us to the nicest restaurants, too,” he said.

“We can make it up and have dinner sometime this week! I’ll be here on Mars until Thursday,” Guang Hong replied and took out his scheduling device, “Oh, I should call Leo in. He knows how to work this thing faster than I do.”

He pressed a button on his wristwatch, and seconds later, the door opened and Leo gracefully entered. Phichit stood, offering him the spot beside Guang Hong, and he went over to Seung-gil who’d stayed seated with a tight posture at his desk. Phichit settled himself on the wide arm of his chair and smiled when Seung-gil rested a hand on his knee, gently kneading the flesh of his thigh with his thumb.

“Leo is reserving dinner for us tonight,” Guang Hong announced, eyes never leaving the flashing screen as his guard and lover went to work on getting them the best table in the city, “It’ll be on me, don’t worry.”

“Actually, we’ll be treated by our hosts,” Leo cut in with a smirk and briefly made eye contact for a second with Phichit.

The hand on his knee squeezed a little too tight and he hissed.

“Stealing from the poor again?” Seung-gil inquired, leaning to the side on his chair so he could gaze up at Phichit with a look of displeasure, “If you need money—”

“I don’t need money. And they’re hardly poor. It’s all in good fun, Seung-gil,” Phichit explained away and turned so he could face Guang Hong, who was about to protest about who would foot the food bill, “No worries. I won’t be paying anything. We can thank our tourists for providing tonight’s meal.”

“How kind!” Guang Hong said and took back the tablet from Leo when he was finished. Before the guard could return to his post, Guang Hong pulled him closer by wrapping an arm tight around his waist.

“You’ll be staying with us, of course,” Phichit said and received a lively nod in return, “Good! I need to show you the new pets Seung-gil bought for me. Rare little things. I hope I can get them to breed because apparently they’re the last of their kind.”

“Oh! Sounds exciting!”

Seung-gil gave Phichit’s thigh a soft pat before standing.

“I have several meetings the rest of the afternoon, so Phichit can go ahead and take you to the apartment. I’ll meet you at the restaurant,” he said and leaned over when Phichit tugged on his tie.

Their kiss was brief yet sweet, and then Phichit swung from the desk, making his way back around to his friends. He linked arms with Guang Hong before heading to the door and blew Seung-gil a goodbye kiss.

“Mr. New Main Syndicate Leader doesn’t seem to want to tell me how the Red Eye trade went,” Guang Hong moped and Phichit chuckled at the scowl appearing on Seung-gil’s face.

“No worries. I’ll let you know all about it on the way to our flat,” he promised and gave Guang Hong’s hand a soft pat.


End file.
